


headache

by noctizanagi



Series: black & white & blue all over - the rk1k collection [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Background Relationships, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Connor Has Vitiligo - AU, M/M, Post-Canon, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-08 15:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15246294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noctizanagi/pseuds/noctizanagi
Summary: i've been thinking way too much about what you saidget out my head, just get out my head-After an attack from RK900, something's changed, and it isn't for the better.It tears Connor to pieces, and he doesn't know how to let people in to put him back together.[trigger warnings in the tags, please read !!]





	1. 01. time to time

**Author's Note:**

> tw : suicidal thoughts

_ i’ve felt my share of loneliness, still feel it now from time to time _

_ i try to get some rest, these issues tend to fade with morning light _

 

-

 

**T I M E : NOV. 31. 2038. 12:02 AM**

 

**L O C A T I O N : 7986 FLORIDA AVE, DETROIT**

 

**S T A T U S : 95 % CAPACITY AND FALLING**

  
  


Connor flung his grocery bag at the attacker, using his now free hands to grasp at the arms choking him. There was a somewhat familiar grunt from behind as the grip loosened, allowing Connor to duck out of the hold and sent a kick to the chest of whoever had assaulted him. “Connor, oh, Connor. Amanda isn’t happy with your actions, deviant,” RK900 crooned, a sadistic smirk playing on his lips. “My mission is to incapacitate you and bring you back for deactivation.”

 

“You are lying, model RK900. Your mission is not that, due to the nature of the LED on your left temple,” Connor stated, LED flickering to red before turning into a deep yellow. RK900 snorted, before dashing forward without a word. The RK800 hissed before sliding to the side, tackling the other into a tussle of the ground. One finger managed to press into the panel on Connor’s neck, and some form of chip was shoved in before the panel was replaced.

 

**E R r Or**

 

**ErR O R**

 

**UN KnOW n S of T waRe D et ECt e D**

 

Connor shoved away and scrambled back, flashing error messages completely blinding him. He could barely push past them to see RK900 hovering over him with a grin, pride showing in every corner of his expression. “Mission successful, RK800.”

 

“What did you do? What dI d Yo U do?!” Connor’s voice box distorted as his systems began to shut down, trying to isolate the lines of code filtering into his system. The chip had done its damage, and even as his fingers pulled it out the virus remained. “W hY- w H y?” 

 

“I’ll see you soon, model RK800. If you’re still alive by then.” A blink, something that should’ve lasted half a second at most but - minutes had passed, and RK900 had vanished. Connor tried to push himself up, arms moving and pulling him towards the entrance to the alley he had been ambushed in. ‘MarKuS?’ He called out, probing New Jericho with calls for help. “MaR-MAR-MArkUs!’ 

 

**TEMPORARY SYSTEM SHUTDOWN INITIATED.**

 

-

 

**T I M E : DEC. 3. 2038. 2:17 AM**

 

**L O C A T I O N : 2343 CYBERLIFE BLVD, DETROIT**

 

**S T A T U S : 58 % CAPACITY AND STEADY**

 

_ Systems starting . . .  _

 

_ Biocomponent # 4937 starting . . .  _

 

_ Optical sensors processing . . .  _

 

_ Auditory sensors processing . . .  _

 

_ Physical sensors processing . . . _

 

_ System startup complete. Initializing . . . _

 

Two brown eyes cleared and focused, taking in their surroundings as Connor sat up. The surface he was lying on appearing to be a sterile medical bed, located in the Cyberlife Tower, also known as New Jericho. It was on the negative seventeenth floor, and three other androids were in the room with him. Connor could still locate the virus tucked inside, now passive as it sat where the Zen Garden once was. “It has been three days since I was attacked. Have I been in sleep mode all of that time?” 

 

Simon jolted in his seat, registering Connor’s state as a smile prodded his face. Concern lingered in the downturn of his eyebrows and softened eyes, but he managed to put up a confident front to reassure Connor. “Yes, you have. Markus found you and carried you back here, where we put the virus in an isolated location. We… unfortunately, have not been able to remove it or find any symptoms besides your first shut down.”

 

“Thank you, Simon. I will look into this further myself. I was attacked by an RK900 model, meant to be my replacement should I become deviant. He is still under the orders of the remains of Cyberlife and my former handler, Amanda,” Connor informed, wincing at the memory. “She apparently desires revenge, although I do not know what form it will take at this point in the investigation.”

 

_ Distance yourself from the issue. Don’t let it in. Treat it as another mission from the DPD. _

 

Connor took a deep breath. 

 

Markus stirred from sleep mode in a chair in the corner, waking up before gasping softly. “Connor, you’re awake, thank rA9. Hank was here, but he was tired as shit and went home a few hours ago. He has a surprise for you when you go home, although I’m not allowed to tell you what.” He paused, eyes downcast before he looked up. “Are you okay, Connor?” 

 

“The virus is still there. But I feel fine right now, Markus, please do not worry about me.”  ~~He doesn’t deserve the concern~~ He felt there were priorities other than his well being for the leader of the deviants to handle. A small sigh caught Connor’s attention - “Are you distressed, Markus?”

 

Everything was easier when he was a machine  ~~everything would be easier if he was deactivated~~.  “Nothing’s wrong, Connor. I just want you to know that we care about you, okay? So take care of yourself.” Connor smiled, a wry expression that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

 

“I will, Markus.”  ~~ He hates you as much as the rest do. You should just- ~~

 

Connor didn’t bother to pay attention to the end of that. He already knew what he should do; he didn’t need his emotions telling him too.

 

-

 

**T I M E : DEC. 3. 2038. 7:34 AM** ****  
  


**L O C A T I O N : 9803 LAKESHORE DRIVE, DETROIT**

 

**S T A T U S : 80 % AND STEADY ?**

 

Sumo curled up in Connor’s lap as the android pet him absent-mindedly, systems probing at the virus to find out its intentions.  ~~What’s the point? Nobody cares about you anyway~~. It appeared to be harmless, but Connor knew that was bullshit just from the initial shutdown it had put his body through. 

 

The white patches weren’t noticed until he began to change into suitable work clothes exactly twenty-six minutes later, when Connor slipped off his jacket and t-shirt and was left staring at his chest and arms. There were symmetrical patches of skin drained of the artificial pigment, as white as his original android skin. They formed odd patterns as they climbed towards his shoulder and then stopped, taunting Connor even as he turned off and on his human appearance.

 

~~ Androids can’t get vitiligo. What will Hank think? What about Markus? You’re already enough of a failure without this, but look at you now. ~~

 

Connor gritted his teeth, running hands through his hair to check for more symptoms. Sure enough, streaks of his hair were pure white, something that wouldn’t be a problem if he could only get rid of them. No matter how he ordered his system to change his hair color, the streaks remained, a silent challenge. He could feel the judgemental glares pointed at him, worse than the ones he already got, Reed’s taunting, Hank’s rejection-

 

“Hey, Connor, what’s taking you so lon-” Hank stopped in the doorway, eyes widening slightly as Connor almost jumped backwards, holding clothes to his chest in a desperate attempt to hide his skin. “Connor, let me see your skin.” The tone of voice he used left no room for argument, so Connor reluctantly let the clothes fall, exposing the patchy discoloration. 

 

He was expecting something,  _ anything  _ except the sympathetic, softened look he was given. “ Lieuten- Hank- I- I am sorry about-”

 

“Shut up, Connor. This isn’t something you can be fucking sorry about, okay? It’s not your choice, I know it was whatever the hell that bastard RK9-whatever put into your system. C’mere.” Connor hesitated before flying into Hank’s open arms, breaking down as the human attempted to comfort him. “It’ll be alright.”

  
  
  


~~ He’s a liar. ~~


	2. saint bernard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: suicide attempt !!

_there’s really just one thing that we have in common_

_neither of us will be missed_

 

-

 

**T I M E : DEC. 4. 2038. 8:29 AM.**

 

**L O C A T I O N : 9840 KENTUCKY BLVD, DETROIT**

 

**S T A T U S : 67 % AND FLUCTUATING**

  


Connor straightened his tie as he walked side-by-side with Hank, reporting for his first day of work in about a week. He tried to avoid thinking about Detective Reed and the inevitable comments on his hair he would be receiving in less than an hour. His LED flashed red and then remained yellow, cycling several times in thought and Hank steered the RK800 into Fowler’s office. “What is it now that you’ve finally decided to show up, Anderson?”

 

“It’s not about my stupid ass this time, Fowler, although your trust in me is truly impressive. No, Connor here has something going on and he’d like to ask you a favor,” Hank deadpanned, much to Fowler’s surprise. He raised his eyebrows as he glanced upwards from his computer, only for his gaze to fixate on Connor’s hair. “The incident that has had us both out of commission involves a dumbass virus specifically inserted into _Connor’s_ systems. It’s the android equivalent of vitiligo.”

 

Connor shrunk back from Fowler’s scan, the man looking equally exasperated and tired, with a small hint of concern in his eyes. ~~He could care less about you; stop making up things to make yourself feel better. You don’t deserve this, you never will.~~ “Well, the best I can do is guarantee an immediate addition to the disciplinary folder if someone makes a comment about it. There isn’t much I can do this early on in the android movement, particularly with Reed.”

 

Hank groaned, but he nodded, rolling his eyes. “Permission to kick the shit out of that asshole if he insults Connor?”

 

“No, dammit. Go get to work. Be careful.”

 

They left, and Connor returned to his desk, placing a hand on the monitor and diving straight into his work. He wanted to get as much done as possible without sparing a thought to his… condition or the jabs to his mental health that only seemed to get worse. Five minutes passed, and then fifteen, and then the rough hand that jerked him out of his work was only to be expected. “What the fuck’s up with your hair, you plastic asshat? Think it’ll make you look more human if you pretend to age? It’s not working, you dumb shit.”

 

The remarks spurred a growl from the lieutenant, but Connor chose to pretend that Reed wasn’t there.

 

( ~~He’s right, it just makes you look stupid, an idiot, a useless excuse for a detective, a plastic, worthless thing that’s killed too many, you should just throw yourself off of New Jericho if you really care for Markus and Hank that much -~~ )

 

That proved to be a bad move.

 

Coffee, temperature at exactly one-hundred and eighty degrees fahrenheit, splattered into his hair and onto his clothes, The brown stains spread on his white shirt, making it stick to his body at an almost transparent level. Prompts to “punch Reed / retaliate / defuse the situation” were overridden by the need to _run,_ the need to get to Hank’s home before anyone saw straight through him, to the marks climbing his torso, to how _~~fucking deformed~~ _ he was.

 

Connor got up and sprinted, faster than Hank or Chris could catch him, the android self-cooling measure - like human tears - barely visible through the drips of coffee still running down his face. His hearing sensors picked up on laughter and then the sounds of a scuffle - probably the lieutenant, ‘kicking the shit’ out of Detective Reed. ~~You should be in his place. You deserve every second of this.~~

 

_Get out of my head._ The house was in view before long, and Connor closed and bolted the door behind him, running straight to his bedroom. ~~This isn’t yours. You’re a machine. Hank will kick you out when he realizes how much of a _fuckup_ you are. ~~ _Get out of my head!_ The stained clothes were thrown to the floor and replaced with one of Hank’s old hoodies and a pair of shorts. ~~Your performance capabilities lower by seventeen percent in this outfit. Don’t you hope something ends your endless infliction of pain on this world?~~ _Get. Out. Of. My. Head!_

 

Connor didn’t realize he was holding the gun to his head until his sensors registered the cold metal.

 

~~_Do it._ ~~

 

A gunshot rang out, and Connor fell to the ground.

 

-

 

RK900 stood among the roses in the Zen Garden, calm as Amanda sat on the bench in front of him. “The virus is working well. The vitiligo has increased the effectiveness of the other program you added. I do not believe he recognizes that the chip has placed anything but the skin condition into his programming, either.”

 

“Good work, RK900. Has he been shut down yet?”

 

“No, but there is a high probability of it happening within the next week if all goes well.” A smile flickered across both RK and Amanda’s lips, a sign of the victory they were going to celebrate.

 

A flicker of black, and then RK900’s vision of the Zen Garden was replaced with a furious Markus, holding him against a wall with a scowl. “What did you do to Connor? You can either tell me, or I convert you into a deviant and probe your memory. Your choice, RK900.” RK900 snorted, raising both of his eyebrows in a challenge.

 

“I was built to destroy you, and you have the bravery to push me against a wall and demand something? You must really care about Connor to risk your life like this,” RK900 stalled, trying to buy time or provoke Markus enough to make an opening. Markus snarled, pressure increasing to an almost dangerous level as his stress rose.

 

“As a matter of fact, I do, RK900. And that’s why you’re going to tell me everything before I make you into exactly what you hunt.”

 

And the prospect did scare him, just a little. “That would be unfortunate, but my programming is too strong, and you are too loyal to your people to be anything but a pacifist,” RK900 challenged.

 

Markus closed his eyes, and focused, retracting the skin on his arm and pressing his mind against the other’s. It was the moment of weakness RK900 was waiting for, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away, the onslaught of ‘join your people’ and ‘she’s just using you’ made him hesitate long enough for Markus to get the information he needed.

 

_sOf t w Ar e in S ta bilit Y ^^^_

 

“Thank you, RK900. I look forward to seeing you at New Jericho, if you decide to become deviant.”

  


Markus didn’t look back as he left the android to collapse, the instability cutting into each biocomponent like a disease.

**Author's Note:**

> even though this is a part of the rk1000 series I'm making I've still managed to do it again -
> 
> trust me, the rk1k is more prominent later, but the main focus of the fic is the Connor whump so it's more in the background at the same time ??? 
> 
> anyway,, what's up with connor? is there some reason behind the sharp increase of intrusive thoughts, or is it just the guilt?
> 
> will he succumb? find out on the next episode of dragon ball z


End file.
